


Yuletide

by Ellana17



Series: The Creed is All There is [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Porn with Feelings, Yule event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellana17/pseuds/Ellana17
Summary: “That’s mistletoe,” she explained.“What is it for?”“We’re supposed to kiss under it,” she said.
Relationships: Eivor/Hytham (Assassin's Creed)
Series: The Creed is All There is [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137839
Comments: 3
Kudos: 81





	Yuletide

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading up on Vikings and I stumbled upon the myth about mistletoe. With the Yule event going on, I guess I got inspired.

Drinking mead was the perfect way of warming up - or so Eivor often said - and Yuletide was the perfect day to indulge in such an activity. The whole settlement had come together that evening to drink, fight, and overall enjoy a few hours of merriment surrounded by family and friends. Eivor had even forgone her heavy armor for the occasion because – as she had told Basim just a few minutes prior – you did not really need armor when you were amongst friends. Basim had simply raised a judgmental eyebrow; Eivor supposed there were not a lot of people the man trusted and even fewer he would call “friends”.

Hytham, on the other hand, seemed a little too trusting, a little too wide-eyed and naïve for someone who killed people on a daily basis. Eivor knew the man was content – even happy – to spend days on end in a dusty house surrounded by even dustier parchments but she had to admit the look on his face and the way his eyes lit up when he came upon a “fascinating” piece of information was rather heartwarming. She would even go as far as calling it cute. Which reminded her…

“I have a new medallion for you,” she told Hytham, who was sitting in front of her, nursing a tankard of mead.

He looked up suddenly, his eyes shinning. “Do you, really?”

Eivor nodded. “It’s in my room.” Then, she put down her tankard of mead on the table rather forcefully and dried her mouth with her sleeve.

“Let’s get it now,” she said. “Before the mead makes me forget even my own name.”

Hytham stared at her and Eivor had a feeling her words did not make much sense to him at the moment. She had to admit the mead was strong, even for her.

“Right now?” he finally asked.

For a moment, Eivor lost herself in the warmth emanating from the man’s gaze. The firelight reflecting into his eyes made them look like two perfectly carved ambers.

A sudden crackling sound coming from the fire broke the spell.

“Let’s go,” she said, standing up.

The wooden post near her started spinning and Eivor had to lean back against the table in order to avoid falling face first into the snow. It took Hytham two tries before getting up without falling back down on the bench.

The two of them finally managed to make their way to the long house but the journey had never seemed as long before. Hytham lost his footing on a slippery rock and Eivor caught his arm at the last second.

“Careful my friend, don’t let a rock do the Order’s work for them.”

“What a disgrace would that be,” Hytham pointed out. “I can clearly imagine Basim’s disappointment if I were to meet my downfall at the hands of a rock.”

“As can I.”

They stepped inside the long house and were hit by the warmth of the dying fire.

Eivor shook herself, making snow fall on the ground around her and then proceeded to pat Hytham’s shoulders to get rid of the white powder that had gathered there. The poor man looked like he was freezing over.

“I miss being warm,” he said, frowning slightly.

He stared blankly at Eivor’s hands as they moved over his chest and she stopped abruptly. She cleared her throat, glancing down.

“My room’s that way,” she said without looking at the man. She heard him follow her inside the room. “It’s here, somewhere,” she added, looking around for the medallion.

For the life of her she could not remember where she had put it.

“What’s this?” Hytham suddenly asked.

Eivor followed his gaze to the ceiling and frowned. Right above Hytham’s head was a single branch of mistletoe. Eivor wondered who could have been brave enough – or stupid enough – to enter her room without her consent.

“That’s mistletoe,” she explained.

“What is it for?”

Eivor groaned and turned back to the stack of parchment on the table. Perhaps the medallion was under one of those dusty rolls.

“We’re supposed to kiss under it,” she said.

“I’m sorry?”

Eivor sighed. “It’s a long story. My people think that since Frigg lost her son to mistletoe she decided that it would only be used to bring love and not death.”

“And what happens if people don’t kiss?” Hytham asked.

“Bad luck, I guess,” Eivor answered without looking at him. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I need all the luck I can get,” Hytham pointed out.

When Eivor finally turned around, she got almost knocked over by the intensity of Hytham’s gaze.

“I can’t let you die on my watch,” she said before taking two steps forward and crashing their lips together.

Hytham lifted both hands and rested them on her cheeks, gently framing her face as they kissed.

“Eivor-”

“Do you want this as much as I do?” she asked gruffly.

“You have no idea.”

“Good.”

As they kissed, Eivor led Hytham to her bed until the back of his legs collided with the wooden frame. Hytham lost his footing for the second time that evening and fell on his ass on the mattress.

“Perfect,” Eivor purred.

Then, she pushed his shoulders, making his back hit the mattress before straddling him. Hytham leaned on his elbow and lifted his other arm, resting his hand against the back of Eivor’s neck and bringing her close to kiss her again. He rolled them over swiftly until Eivor was lying down under him. He slipped his hands under her dress and the feeling of his hands on her bare skin sent sparks all over her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“And you talk too much.”

Her hands made their way to Hytham’s waist in the hope of getting rid of his pants but Eivor found that she could not make sense of the leather straps making up his outfit.

“Those things don’t make any sense,” she groaned.

Hytham chuckled as he put his hands over Eivor’s, guiding her through removing the straps and finally getting rid of his pants. In her drunken state, she had forgotten all about his boots but she did not trust either one of them to remove the boots without injuring themselves.

“Come on,” she told him impatiently, opening her legs under him. “Come on.”

Hytham only had to push the hem of her dress up before pushing inside of her, burying his face in the crook of her neck with a grunt.

Finally feeling him inside of her only added to the fire burning her from the inside out. As he thrust into her with a wonderful wet sound, Eivor wrapped both her legs around his waist.

“I’ve wanted this,” he panted in her ear. “Wanted you.”

“You have me.”

His next thrust sent her head flying against the headboard with a loud thud.

“Keep going,” she said before he could start apologizing. “Just like that. Keep going.”

The heat travelling through her body was almost unbearable and the sound of her own heartbeat was getting louder and louder with each thrust. She was so close. The sudden wave of pleasure took her by surprise and her grip around Hytham’s waist strengthened without her meaning to. After a few more thrusts and a few more headboard collisions, she felt him go limp in her arms and the mere idea of him filling her so fully was enough to send her over the edge a second time.

Hytham’s arms were shaking and he collapsed on her, crushing her under his weight. Eivor was surprised to notice that the closeness was not unpleasant, on the contrary. She wanted him close for as long as possible. Hytham made her feel things she had never felt before. He made her want to say things she had never said before.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

“I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hytham is the cutest assassin to ever assassinate, don’t @ me


End file.
